Cupid of Suburbia
by sic-itur-ad-astra
Summary: Harry is fed up of watching his best friends bicker - sure sometimes its entertaining, but this year he's going to do something about it. But what will come of Harry's new found match-making skills...
1. Down for the Count

_AN : After you've read, please review – it only takes a minute and really makes my day. I review every story I read, please return the favour :D_

_Disclaimer : You know the drill… Don't own the characters etc…_

**Chapter 1 : Down for the Count**

"Just talk to him."

"No"

"You know this is stupid"

"I know that _he's_ stupid"

"Oh come on… please," Harry looked at her with those puppy-dog eyes and she gave in. She didn't know why, it wasn't that she liked Harry more than a friend, but every time he looked at her with those big greens she always gave in.

"Fine," Hermione reluctantly said through gritted teeth, "but if he asks me one more time if I'm going to be sending a Valentine to anyone I'm going to hex him."

Harry grinned mischievously. His two best friends were always at each others throats about one thing or another. It was quite amusing some days to count how many arguments they had – so far the highest count had been 15 – 16 if you count the squabble they managed to hold in the middle of potions with only their eyes.

Hermione raised herself elegantly from her chair and glided over to where Ron was sitting cross-legged staring defiantly into the fire with his arms crossed. Ron caught a glimpse of something shining like a diamond in the corner of his eye, and looked up to see Hermione's newly polished Head Girl badge lit by the embers of the glowing fire.

Ron, over the initial shock of seeing Hermione approach him so soon after their argument, looked over in Harry's direction to see him waving at him and mouthing the words, "say you're sorry".

"No," Ron let slip.

"Pardon," said the ever polite Hermione.

"Not you Harry," Ron said indicating where to where Harry was seated.

Hermione turned around to see Harry hugging himself tenderly and making kissing noises. She suddenly turned a deep shade of pink. Firstly she was angry at Harry – as the only other person but Ron that she trusted she had confided her feelings to him, told him about how she often had dreams about being swept of her feet by Ron on his broomstick, flying them high over the clouds and kissing her tenderly… before being forced to wake up. How could Harry just parade her feelings like that around the common room, and worst of all letting Ron see! Secondly the look on Ron's face made Hermione feel even worse, because from just one look – she could see that Ron didn't feel the same way. He had a look of deep disgust etched all over his face. Hermione suddenly felt very sick…

Ron couldn't believe Harry sometimes. Ron had never told Harry about his feelings for Hermione – they had never been all that serious anyway, and he knew nothing would ever come of them – so why speak about them. But even so, Harry seemed to have an uncanny way of being able to read Ron's thoughts and had been teasing him like this every so often since sixth year. It made Ron disgusted that Harry let Hermione see this – it was one thing Harry knowing, it was a whole other story if Hermione ever found out…

Ron's look of disgust rapidly changed to concern as he tore his gaze away from Harry's direction and looked to Hermione to find her looking as though she had drunk Bubotuber pus. "Oh my god, Hermione. What's wrong?" He stood abruptly and stretched out his hand and felt her forehead, "You're boiling hot. Come on, let's get you to the hospital wing." He put a comforting arm around her shoulder and started to direct her towards the portrait hole when unexpectedly Hermione's whole weight collapsed in his arms.

It was so sudden that Ron found himself on the floor also managing just in time to catch her head from hitting the stone floor. As he sat there protectively cradling her in his arms he pushed aside a lock of her bushy brown hair from her eyes and felt that familiar feeling rising in his stomach. "Seventh year," he said aloud, though not meaning to, "is gonna be even harder than sixth."

Unbeknown to Ron and the collapsed Hermione, Harry sat still in his corner of the common room tucking his wand back into his robes thinking, "Not if I can help it…"


	2. Extraordinary Girl

_AN : I write this fanfic, mostly for my own personal enjoyment – but I still would appreciate feedback and suggestions. Everyone likes a little praise, encouragement and criticism. So after reading, please review :D_

_Disclaimer : yada yada… I'm not JKR… blah blah…_

**Chapter 2 : Extraordinary Girl**

"Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, if I find the two of you in here after hours, I am going to have to have a word with Professor McGonagall." Madame Pomfrey was not a happy bunny tonight. For the past week she had walked in to check on Hermione's condition to find Harry and Ron at her bedside. At first it was sweet, she couldn't think of any other pupils since the marauders who had such a strong friendship. Then it was amusing, after the first few warnings the boys had started trying to hide in random places around the hospital wing when she did her nightly rounds. But now, it was thoroughly annoying.

"Please Madame Pomfrey," Ron pleaded, "We only want to sit with her, we won't make a sound." Ron looked desperate, as if dreading the moment he knew was coming – the separation of him and Hermione. He looked as if being forced away from her again was going to finally push him over the edge.

It broke Harry's heart to see Ron like this. If he'd known that Hermione was going to be knocked into a deep sleep for over a week he would have never cast the spell. It was a simple spell. It sent the person into a sudden sleep filled with dreams about the love of their life. Harry figured that if he forced Hermione to think about her feelings for Ron she would eventually be forced to confess them. However, instead she had been in this state for a week now, and showed no signs of improvement.

At first Harry thought it strange that Madame Pomfrey could not lift the spell, but Madame Pomfrey had then explained that this kind of spell should just be let to run its course as meddling with it could cause more complications. And so, Harry had accompanied Ron every night to see her, privately cursing himself for casting that damned spell.

Madame Pomfrey's expression softened at the look on the boys' faces. "OK," she found herself saying, "but only one of you can stay. That way I can be sure that the two of you can't talk and disturb my other patients."

The two boys looked at each other. They were nearly equally desperate in their wish to stay. Harry needed to be there to settle his guilt at causing this in the first place. However, Harry knew that Ron needed to be there more; Harry would just have to be contented that Ron would be there for her if she were to wake tonight.

"I'll go," Harry whispered, "See you in the morning Ron." He turned to go when he felt a hand grab his shoulder.

"Thanks mate," Ron said, pulling his friend into a tight hug, "you don't know how much it means to me."

"Yeah, I do," Harry replied, releasing himself from Ron's grip and returned to the Gryffindor common room.

Ron turned back to Hermione and sat in the arm chair he had placed at her bedside. He watched her chest rise and fall as she slept on. Her hair glistened in the light of the few candles placed around the hospital wing giving her what looked like a golden halo. Ron smiled to himself at how she resembled an angel and allowed the same recurring feeling to wash over him as her eye lashes fluttered slightly.

"Careful, we'll fall!" Hermione breathed, almost inaudibly. Ron almost yelped in shock, was she awake?

"Hermione…" he asked tentatively, stroking the side of her face.

"It's so high up here…" Hermione was obviously still asleep.

"It's ok," Ron found himself saying, "I won't let you fall."

Hermione smiled sweetly and Ron felt a force involuntarily pulling him towards her. Caught in the moment, Ron chose not to fight it – no one else was here… He leaned in and softly brushed her lips with his.

He unconsciously sensed her waken and sat up immediately. But it was too late. She had seen him. He rose from his seat immediately, gob-smacked, eyes as large as plates in shock, he ran from the room faster than he had ever moved in his life.

"Stupid Ron!" he said to himself, "Stupid, stupid, stupid Ron! It's ok, I'll convince her that she was just sleeping… I'll tell her that she must have still been dreaming… it'll be fine… stupid, stupid Ron!" he scolded himself as he stormed towards the common room.

Meanwhile, Hermione was wide awake, sitting up, dazed and confused in her bed. "Ron…?" she asked to the air. No answer. Must have been dreaming she reasoned… the dream was similar to the one she usually had – but seemed for some reason so much better. She mused silently in the darkness, gazing at the now empty armchair beside her, about the best dream she had ever had.


	3. A Call for Back Up

_AN : Firstly I want to thank fanglessphysco for my first ever review   made me very happy  to everyone else- please review. Every comment, good and bad, is appreciated. Also if you have a story you want me to read, tell me about it and I shal return the favour._

_Disclaimer : Why would I post this on a website called fanfiction if it was all mine…_

**Chapter 3 : A Call for Back Up**

As daylight began to spill through the large arched windows of the hospital wing, shafts of light fell upon Hermione's delicate face. Blinking sleep away from her eyes and cursing the sun for rising so soon she awoke to the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Good morning," Madame Pomfrey sang, clearly in much better spirits today than the previous night, "Are we ready to return to being Head Girl?"

"I think so…" Hermione hesitated, "how long have I been asleep for?"

"Roughly seven days," Madame Pomfrey sighed, "You're friends will be quite relieved to find you awake finally."

"Have they been to see me…" Hermione asked in what she hoped was a casual tone of voice, though still thinking about the dream. She was so sure that Ron had been there, and yet if he had been there, she couldn't even begin to think about what it meant…

"Every night without failure," replied a rather exasperated Madame Pomfrey, "I think if I had found them one more time trying to shrink each other in order to fit inside the flower vases I might have really lost my temper."

Hermione suppressed a giggle at the idea of Harry and Ron squeezing themselves amongst the flowers. "Were they here last night?"

"Every night. Although last night I did feel sorry for them, so I let one of them stay with you. I'm surprised he isn't here… did Ronald go back to the common room to get Harry?"

"R-r-r," Hermione took a deep breath, "Ron was here?" she asked in a much higher tone than she wished for.

"Yes, Mr Weasley couldn't bear to be parted from you. He looked thoroughly heartbroken at the idea of it. Maybe you should go and find him, he's probably worried sick," suggested Madame Pomfrey, seizing the moment to finally remove Hermione from her care. She enjoyed looking after ill students, but when they were part of an inseparable trio it was barely more than she could stand!

Without a word Hermione rose from her bed and let her aching legs carry her towards the Great Hall. From what Hermione gathered from the light streaming from the windows and the crowds gathering and yawning in the corridors, it was time to have breakfast. Hermione wasn't at all hungry, even though she had not eaten for a week, but was drawn to the food, because wherever you found food, you found Ron.

As Hermione entered the Great Hall her nostrils were filled with the usual aroma of eggs, bacon, sausages and fried bread. Some things never change, Hermione mused as she stumbled over to the Gryffindor table to find a seat with her best friends, sitting next to Harry and opposite Ron.

Harry didn't seem to notice Hermione until she had seated herself beside him taking a piece of toast to nibble in order to look casual, as if she didn't need any other reason but breakfast to be there. Harry's expression immediately erupted into a smile and he pulled Hermione into a hug that seemed to last much longer than any they had shared before. "I'm so glad you're ok," Harry whispered.

"You're cutting off my air supply!" Hermione chocked.

He quickly let her go with a muttered, "sorry."

Hermione looked over to see Ron's reaction to her arrival, hoping that it would be at least as comforting as Harry's. However Ron didn't seem to notice her at all. In fact he didn't acknowledge her presence whatsoever until Hermione had called his name for the third time.

"What? Oh… hello Hermione…"

"Is that it?" Hermione blurted out before she had time to think.

"What!" Ron yelled back.

"Don't you care at all that I have been asleep for seven days!"

"What do you want me to do? Leap for joy because you finally stopped being so lazy?"

"I wasn't in bed because I was being lazy Ronald – I was hit by a spell."

"Either way, you're up now – whoopidoo. Can I go back to my eggs?"

"You, Ronald Weasley, are an insufferable git." And with that she rose dramatically from her chair and stormed out of the Great Hall, forcing her aching limbs to move much more vigorously than they were willing.

Her eyes soon began to feel as if they were burning inside her skull. She could feel tears beginning to prick the corners of her eyes, but would not let them get the better of her until she was out of his sight. He really didn't care. She had been so sure. Of course she had tried to convince herself that it was definitely a dream, even though it had felt so real, but the hope that her might reciprocate her feelings had still remained in her heart. But now, it was all too obvious that Ron didn't.

Ron watched her go, feeling more and more empty with every step that she took away from him. It had to be done, he convinced himself, I have to act normal, we always argue, we can't change that, if I change she'll know, and she can't ever know, because if she ever knew… that would be the end.

Harry watched Ron continue to gaze at his plate, refusing to go after, or even look at Hermione. However the way Ron was absentmindedly etching the initials HG using his knife into a dollop of ketchup gave away his true feelings.

Harry had not managed to get Hermione to confess, they were back to bickering as usual, it was time to call in back up. Harry needed to team with someone who knew Ron well enough to manipulate, who Harry could talk to easily and who was a good friend of Hermione's. Well that narrowed it down… the answer was simple and at that very moment walked right past him.

"Morning Harry."

"Morning Ginny," she smiled back then quickly rising to walk in step beside her, in what he hoped was a casual way, he leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "I need a favour…"


	4. Ice Cream and a Hug

_AN : Woohoo! Two reviews  I am very happy. Big shout out to pink-helga. However although two reviews have made me happy, I would be even happier if I had a few more. So feed the button. It literally only takes a matter of seconds. Ideas for plots, constructive criticism or you could jut boost my ego  But **please review!**_

_Disclaimer : This is mine! All mine! Mwahaha! Oh… whoops… sorry… wrong story – virtually none of this is mine – except the plot, which I claim _

**Chapter 4 : Ice Cream and a Hug**

"We need to talk." Hermione had opened the door of her Head Girl's bedroom to find a cheery, yet definitely determined red head dressed in blue flannel pyjamas covered in teddy bears holding the biggest tub of ice cream Hermione had ever seen. Hermione was shocked that Ginny had not collapsed beneath its weight; however her delicate arms carried the tub seemingly effortlessly as she welcomed herself into the room and seated herself upon the Head Girl's enormous four poster.

"Girl talk huh?" Hermione smirked at the younger girl as she began to peel back the lid of the strawberry and cream treat, "Last time you invited yourself into my room to eat comfort food was when you split up Dean. So what's wrong now?"

"It's not me. It's you! I'm not stupid I can see that you've been crying."

Hermione immediately shot a hand up to shield her red puffy eyes, "It's just allergies…" she muttered feebly.

"What are you allergic to?" Ginny interrogated, clearly not believing the bushy haired individual.

_Your brother_, Hermione thought to herself, which made the corners of her mouth rise a little.

"Well, at least you're smiling now. Fine – you don't have to tell me. But you know I only want to help you right? I can't help if I don't know what is troubling you…" Ginny added a little subtle pressure to this last statement, hoping to make Hermione budge – but to no avail.

Hermione, solid as a rock, was resolute – Ginny would never know her feelings for Ron. That would be too weird. Hermione wasn't even that close to Ginny, the only way they knew each other really was through Ron. She was just the little sister. Ok, so they had gotten a little closer since fifth year and the DA meetings, but still, telling a little sister that you were falling in love with their big brother is still really strange. Hang on! Falling in love… Hermione shook her head of the thought.

"Oh well, I'm sure that it's nothing that ice cream and a hug can't fix." Ginny passed over the spoon which Hermione took. Hermione could refuse to reveal her heart, but why deny her kind offer of ice cream.

"Come here," Hermione said, pulling the smaller girl into a hug, "it'll be ok, I'll work it out. Don't worry about me. I'm just a little confused at the moment is all."

Ginny smiled inwardly, _step one - complete_, she thought to herself.

Letting go of Ginny, Hermione turned her attention to the ice cold tub that had been pushed into her lap. Digging the spoon into the white and pink swirled mass Hermione was surprised at how soft it was. The only other ice cream this soft she had had was Mrs Weasley's homemade ice cream, all other bought ice creams seemed to be rock solid.

"Did you make this?" Hermione asked, an awed expression spreading across her face, she was sure of what her answer would be.

"Yeah, mum's recipe," Ginny smiled back.

Satisfied with the answer and anticipating the taste even more she lifted the spoon to her lips, opened her petite mouth, and placed the icy morsel on her tongue. Swallowing, Hermione thought on how wonderful it tasted, Ginny would clearly turn out to be a witch to rival her mother's cooking. Then, all of a sudden, Hermione heard chimes echoing at the back of her head, and began to feel very different…

"That was disgusting!" Hermione grimaced.

"What?" Ginny, confused and startled rose from the bed; sure she had misheard her friend.

"I've never tasted anything so foul in my life- take this and get out of my room! What are you trying to do? Poison me!"

Ginny was quickly shoved out of the room, the door slamming behind her. She stood outside the door for a few moments trying to figure out what happened, then comprehension dawned on her, "Oh no…" and with that she raced down the stairs, across the common room and up another flight of stairs to the seventh year boys dormitory. But when she got there, it was too late…

"I hate you – you're the worst friend a guy could possibly have. Now stop trying to interfere and bloody leave me alone!

"Mate, calm down," Harry tried to soothe.

"Did you hear me I told you to go away!"

Ginny quickly raced across the room to grab Harry's arm and drag him from the dormitory. Harry didn't protest, confused he allowed Ginny to pull him out of the room, hoping she would give him the explanation he needed, his expression still flabbergasted.

"I don't understand," Harry muttered, "I did everything you said… I hugged him, and he ate the ice cream. Was I supposed to do something else… where did I go wrong...?"

"I think…" Ginny started, fumbling for the right words, an easy way to break it to Harry, but not finding them.

"What?" Harry inquired. Then throwing her one of his puppy-dog looks she melted and lost herself in those green pools, "please Ginny, I need to know."

"I think I messed up the potion. I think… I think maybe… the veritaserum had impurities."

"But that means…" Harry paused, it was too awful to say.

Ginny took a deep breath and finished the sentence for him, "This is going to be a lot harder than we thought."


	5. Deceptive Honesty

_AN : I'M BACK! Did you miss me? Didn't think so! After my long absence from the world of fanfiction I have decided to carry on with this story after seeing that I have some fantastic reviews – and one wacky weirdo – which I love! Keep the reviews coming!_

_Disclaimer : Even if I said all this was mine – would you believe me!_

**Deceptive Honesty**

Hermione woke the following morning feeling distinctly ruffled and different. Everything from the beautifully light, crisp rays of early morning sun to the refreshing feeling of the cold stone floor against her bare feet as she slid out of bed for some reason brought an irregular frown to her face. Inside she was still thinking over her usual dream giving her a light headed feeling that made her face shine with glee, giving everyone in Gryffindor the idea that she was a 'morning person' – however this morning was different. Yes, she was happy. But only on the inside. Actually, more specifically, the more happy she felt, the more angry she looked.

_Odd_, she thought to herself whilst glancing at her reflection in the mirror, checking her Head Girl Badge was straight and gleaming as ever. However, as soon as the thought occurred to her, she saw her facial expression change to a look of pure enlightenment. _Very odd…_

Hermione continued to radiate opposing emotions to those that she inwardly felt as she walked down the stairs and through the common room. She gave what she thought was a friendly warm smile to Crookshanks, but what happened to be in fact a severe scowl. A small group of Gryffindor first-years scrambled out of her path deciding not to voice within ear-shot of the decidedly grumpy looking head of school that she had 'got out of the wrong side of the bed'.

Crookshanks, far from being a normal cat, smelled something amiss. He clambered up to the boys dormitory knowing that if anyone could cheer up his faithful owner it would be Harry and Ron.

Ron, who held grudges longer than a piece of elastic, still despised Crookshanks since third year. However this morning, when the feline decided to wake him by climbing on to his chest and purring loudly – Ron showed no normal signs of hatred. Instead Ron slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand, while stroking the bandy-legged companion with the other.

Hearing noises from Ron's four-poster, Harry began to awake. Grabbing his glasses from his bedside table and carefully slipping them onto his nose the watched the scene before him come into focus. If he wasn't still dreaming, which Harry was pretty sure he wasn't, Ron was being nice to Crookshanks. Harry groaned at the realisation that the previous night's potion effects hadn't worn off – how much longer would Ron behave in opposing ways to how he felt? Was Hermione still bewitched? How the hell was he supposed to deal with the two today?

Ron, hearing Harry groan, turned his head towards his wide-awake best friend, the person whom he could depend on entirely, he could go to the depths of hell and Harry would always stand by his side. Ron knew that Harry would miss Ron more than anyone else in the world, and Ron felt the same… well… almost… as much as he cared for Harry, Ron was honest enough with himself to admit that a strong contender for most sorely missed had to be Hermione.

Weird emotions flitted across Ron's face as Harry watched him from the safety of his bed. Harry almost scared of Ron's expressions of deepest loathing had to remind himself that it was just the effects of the potion and that they would soon wear off. Or so he hoped…

"I hate Hermione." Ron muttered to himself, unknowing that he had spoken some of his feelings (well… the opposite) aloud.

It was a statement – not a question. Harry stared. How should he react? Should he behave as though Ron had said the opposite, as Harry knew he inwardly meant, or should he treat the statement as it was presented…

"Erm…" Harry stuttered, words failed him.

"I'm going to show her how much I really detest her. I'm going to take the thing she cares about most and destroy them. I'm going to ruin her lessons. Stupid know-it-all – that'll show her."

Then, without another word, Ron strode from the dormitory. Harry raced after him – what the hell was he going to do? Ron was on the warpath to ruin Hermione's day!

"Harry!" Harry turned and was glad to see a friendly face. Ginny, however friendly she normally was however this morning was utterly miserable, she looked on the verge of tears.

Harry soon enveloped her in his arms and stroked her fiery red hair. The young girl wept on to his shoulder unashamedly muttering incoherently, Harry only picking up random words such as "hopeless", "should never have", "what now?"

"It'll be ok," Harry crooned, trying to convince himself nearly as much as Ginny.

"No Harry! It won't!" suddenly finding her voice she erupted at him in a fit of anger that made Harry wonder whether she had been eating any strange ice-cream recently but then, seeing Ginny try and gain control over herself and wringing her wrists in an irritated fashion, was reminded how very much like Mrs Weasley the youngest red-head was.

"You don't understand… I've been up researching all night – looking into the affects of the potion. Trying to find out what went wrong. And… and it… well…" gathering up the last of her strength before losing her voice again she speedily spluttered, "and-it-won't-stop-till-they-both-admit-each-other-the-truth!"

"What?" Harry was flabbergasted. How were they going to get Ron and Hermione to admit one another's true feelings when every word, action and expression each did was an absolute betrayal of their feelings.

Harry was unsure how long they both sat on the Gryffindor couch but when Harry looked at his watch he was considerably late for class. "Don't worry! I'll sort it out… it'll... it'll be ok…" then giving her a quick reassuring kiss on the cheek rushed off to potions.

Whilst Harry ran at break-neck speed dreading how furious Snape was going to be Ginny sat in the warm Gryffindor common room, one hand glued to the spot that felt so empty now that he had left it on the scarlet sofa, the other to her cheek, which was glowing a fiercer red than both her hair and the burning embers of the fire put together.

However if Snape was angry with Harry when he finally arrived to the lessons, it was nothing to how he felt about Ron.

Snape was livid.

Ron had brought his broom to the lesson, but what was more every now and again he would rise from his seat and begin sweeping the floor with it muttering, "Can't stand this pigsty any longer".


	6. Fool in Love

_AN : This is one of my favourite chapters – I have actually pulled a couple of these pranks of my own teachers – obviously not the leprechaun one, but a few of the others. Review and guess which ones!_

_Disclaimer : squawking like a seaqull Mine! Mine! Mine! – actually… no… not mine._

**Chapter 6 : Fool in Love**

The following week passed quickly, but not quick enough in Harry's opinion. _Why?_ He asked himself over and over again, _why do I bother interfering in their love lives? _But each time he found a small voice answering _because they are meant to be together_. And it was this small voice that helped him get through the weeks lessons that Ron tried to ruin in order to destroy Hermione – but to no avail. Harry might have been happier if Hermione had been upset, but on the contrary, Hermione, still affected by the potion of some six night's ago Hermione was acting as if lessons didn't interest her at all – in fact nothing seemed to bore Hermione more – she seemed to welcome Ron's interruptions in the lessons.

Ron had tried everything he could think of to disrupt the lessons. He had started bringing a leprechaun to charms lessons insisting that he'd hired the monkey to take notes for him. He sat back and relaxed during class, letting the leprachaun scribble on a piece of paper. When it comes time to write a paper or take a test, Ron would write down things like, "Top o' the mornin' to you!" and "I'm sittin' on a pot o' gold." The previous lesson Ron had angrily fired the monkey in front of Professor Flitwick, who looked positively confused, and Hermione, who looked positively delighted.

But if Charms was strange it was nothing to Herbology lessons which the seventh years usually had as the first lesson of the day. He would get there before anyone else, and bring a pillow, some blankets, an air mattress, and an alarm clock. Wearing his pyjamas. He would lie down on the air mattress with the pillow and the blankets and pretend to be asleep. The alarm would set off about two minutes into class. When it went off, very loudly, he would simply hit the "snooze" button and went back to sleep and continued doing so for the duration of the class.

However, Transfiguration was dangerous with Ron around. Every time that Hermione so much as glanced at Ron during the lesson he would "accidentally" set fires at his desk. Burning books, parchment, or whatever he had handy. Whenever he started a fire, no matter how small it was, he would start yelling, "Fire! Fire!" and run out of the room in a panic not returning for the rest of class.

Defence Against the Dark Arts often featured Ron sitting way at the back of the room, up against the wall, to get as far away from Professor Lupin, who had returned to teach them, as possible. While he was lecturing Ron would shout out things like, "What?" and "Speak up! You're mumbling!" Professor Lupin often advised him to sit closer to the front, but Ron would reply that he couldn't because he was scouting the room for "assassins."

Harry wondered whether Ron would begin to get bored of trying to upset Hermione, who only grew more cheerful with each of Ron's attempts. But instead Ron found new tactics such as hiding in her Arithmancy lessons revealing himself halfway through the class, jumping out and yelling, "Just kidding! I'm here! Fooled you again!" Then sitting down and being quiet as if nothing had happened and he belonged in the lessons.

The Ancient Runes professor, who was considerably ancient himself, was given several abstract paintings by Ron as gifts. The paintings were called things like, "Professor Acting Like Mr. Know-It-All" and "Idiot Who Doesn't Know What The Hell He's Talking About."

However, all the teachers seemed unfazed. Perhaps they welcomed a bit of fun around Hogwarts since Fred and George had gone, maybe they thought it was his duty as brother to fill in their shoes. Whatever the teachers reasoning they chose to ignore Ron's blatant attempts to ruin Hermione's education. Well, that is, _nearly_ all the teachers.

On the seventh day, exactly a week since Harry's and Ginny's match-making skills had failed, Snape seemed to have reached boiling point with Ron.

Every time Snape sneered at a Gryffindor's work, which was very often, Ron would take a shot. After several shots Ron was quite drunk. He was so drunk in fact that he fell off his stool grabbing onto his inkwell for support and tossing the contents all over Hermione.

Hermione, who would normally have been livid by this, positively beamed at Ron. Harry was in despair – why didn't she just look at him like that before? Then this would never have happened.

And then, a miracle happened.

"Her-my-oh-knee hick would you like a drink?" Ron was obviously trying to annoy Hermione by offering her alcohol, knowing she didn't drink, and would never even dream of it – she was Head Girl after all.

"Yes please," she uncharacteristically replied.

Ron poured her and himself a shot, which they both downed at once.

"Her-my-oh-knee…hehe" Ron giggled to himself, yet pronouncing every syllable of her name clearly, "that's a very, very, VERY pretty name."

Hermione blushed furiously. Harry was more inclined to believe that this was the effect of the fire-whiskey rather than Ron.

"You're very pretty too. All of you! Not just you're name, but your face too…" Ron stretched out a hand to stroke her face, but caught it in her bushy curls. Hermione let out a whimper of pain and tried to disentangle him, Ron however seemed unabashed, "I don't care if I'm tied in your hair forever. I want to be this close to you forever, and ever, and ever and ever and…"

He stopped. Harry, who had been burying his face in his hands fearing the worst, looked up to see that Hermione had silenced him – with a kiss.


End file.
